Good Intentions Gone Bad
by beyondwonder
Summary: But with all things Jo, his good intentions flew out the door. Dean/Jo R rated. Prompt Fic. Ep 5.02 Spoiler.


**Title: **Good Intentions Gone Bad

**Author:** Beyond_Wonder

**Rating:** R (for language and sexual situations)

**Spoilers:** set after 5.02 'Good God Y'All!'

**Summary:** But with all things Jo, his good intentions of a quiet meal, and an early night flew out the door when he caught sight of a mess of blonde hair, tight blue jeans and a guarded look. Prompt from the **Dean/Jo Comment Fic Meme** from **karate0kat**. She wanted 'Angry Sex'.

**A/N:** Not what I had originally meant to write, but I kinda just went with it. Plus I must note that trying to write smut on a long plane trip during turbulence is not recommended. Just so you all know :D

* * *

"Wait," Dean groaned out, and tore his lips away from Jo's mouth. He sat back on his heels regretfully trying to catch his breath. His head spun from the smell of leather seats, and Jo's vanilla perfume. "I can't... we can't do this."

Confused, Jo raised herself up by her elbows, and tilted her head to the side to observe him. A hardened pink nipple stood at attention where he had pushed aside her white, no nonsense bra. Two teeth shaped welts stood out in stark contrast against her pale neck. "Why?" The flush-faced blonde sat up, her hand slipping from his sweaty abdomen to his lap. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he insisted, running a hand through his short-cropped hair. "I forgot I had this thing… I gotta go, but I'll drive you back to your motel." He started to feel around the dark backseat for their discarded clothing.

"You've gotta be freaking kidding me," Jo exclaimed disappointed, falling back against the sticky back seat. She covered her eyes with her hand, still trying to catch her breath and calm down. "You're bailing on me now?" she moaned, and raked a hand through her messy hair. "Jesus, Dean."

Dean didn't respond. Instead he combed through the car seats until he finally found his t-shirt and her shirt and jacket. He handed her clothing to her wordlessly, and pulled his own t-shirt back over his head.

"Seriously, Dean - what's wrong?" she asked, having not moved to dress. Her voice was soft and pleading. Dean felt his last minute resolve waver. The very sight of her lying wedged between his thighs looking vulnerable, and concerned was nearly his undoing. He mentally groaned. He couldn't believe he had been so stupid, and so weak to give in to those chocolate brown eyes, and her warm, strawberry lip balm flavoured lips.

He hadn't meant to end up in the backseat of the Impala when he had bumped into Jo at the diner in Colorado. He had actually been caught up in his own brooding thoughts when he walked into the small dimly lit diner. He had been desperate for something to eat after having driven Rufus to Bobby's house.

But with all things Jo, his good intentions of a quiet meal, and an early night flew out the door when he caught sight of a mess of blonde hair, tight blue jeans and a guarded look. Still, instead of saying a quick hello like last time and ordering his meal to go, he had saddled up next to her in a booth and started trading small talk.

Even with the knowledge that Ellen was just a phone call away in a motel down the street waiting for Jo to return, Dean had foolishly suggested they go somewhere less crowded to talk. He didn't know what surprised him more; the fact that the young female hunter had barely batted an eyelid before accepting his offer or that he had the balls to seduce Jo when he knew very well how ugly things could turn if he made one wrong move with the willing Harvelle.

If she had been oblivious to his plan when they left, Dean suspected Jo realised his true intentions when he parked the car in the same secluded picnic area he had last seen his brother. Yet she didn't let on.

Instead, they remained frozen in heavy silence until Jo inserted 'The Best of AC/DC' and he made his move.

Jo's annoyed tone brought Dean back to reality. "Are you worried about my mom finding us, 'cos I told you, she's used to me disappearing for a couple of hours after a hunt. She knows I'm not some virginal princess. Everybody needs to let off a little steam-"

"Jo, please." Dean interrupted, and turned away from her so he could open the car door. "I really don't need to be reminded of your mother right now." The cold night air gruffly chased away the cosy temperature inside the Impala, and he ingested the scents of the surrounding forest. He climbed out of the car, nearly loosing his footing when he temporarily forgot that his jeans where pushed down around his knees. He yanked them up quickly.

"Oh. So it's me then." Her voice was so quiet that he barely heard her. Dean finished buckling his belt, and turned around in time to see her pulling her bra back into place.

"Jo-" he started, but she shook her head, her hair spilling forward to hide her face.

"It's cool – I get it." Her tone was icy, with just a hint of hurt. Jo quickly slipped her tank top over her head and slid her belt back through the loopholes. Dean cursed himself numerous times, and turned around to stare up at the sky, searching the stars for answers. He waited patiently for her to finish getting dressed.

The car door of the left side of the car opened, and he turned around ready to serve her with an apology and a lame excuse. "Look Jo, I'm sorry, Ok? It's just bad timing, and I…Hey! Where are you going?" He called out. Jo ignored him and started heading down the road. "Jo! Where are you going?" He hurried to catch up with her. When he reached her side she was zipping her leather jacket up to her chin. "Jo, wait!"

"Just leave me alone," she insisted, not halting her movements even when he grabbed her elbow urgently. "Haven't you done enough?" she spat.

Dean frowned, but tugged at her elbow insistently. "You don't have to walk, Jo. I said I'd drive you back to the motel."

Head held high, she shook off his arm, and continued to walk back to the main road in the dark. "Forget it, Dean. It's a nice night - I'm just going to walk. It's not that far."

"It's five miles," Dean reminded her. When she refused to accept his offer, he looped an arm around her waist and pulled her backwards.

"Don't!" Jo cried out angrily, and rewarded him with a sharp elbow to the ribs. Dean grunted and let go of her. She turned around, blonde hair whipping him in the face. "Just leave me alone. I don't need you or anybody else."

"Oh, don't be so over dramatic," Dean replied irritated. He rubbed his ribs where she had elbowed him. It still throbbed painfully. Dean was just grateful it wasn't his boys she had elbowed. "Just get in the damn car, I'm driving you back to your mother whether you like it or not."

"Fuck you," she hissed, her eyes staring daggers at him. "I don't have to get in the car if I don't want too. I don't have to do *anything* you tell me too. So just take your guilt and your shinny black car, and stick it up your ass!" She shouted, and stormed off down the road again.

Dean stared at her incredulously. She gave no sign of slowing down. After a couple of minutes he frowned petulantly. "Fine! Walk until your Goddamn feet fall off! See if I care!" Dean called after her retreating form. Anger replaced lust, and he felt the weight of the last year suddenly pressing in on him. He cursed himself again and again. He knew better. He knew from day one that this would happen. It was going to get ugly and it was his fault that he had turned what little allies he had left against him.

He had fucked up big time – and she knew it.

Dean groaned and glanced at the car sitting behind him expectantly. He should go – but there was no way he was going to explain to Ellen why he'd let Jo walk 5 miles along side a highway alone. He turned back to Jo. "Will you please just let me drive you back?" He shouted.

"Fuck – your – self!" Jo retorted without turning or slowing down.

"Dammit!" Dean growled and kicked the rocks in front him. "JO!"

"Can't hear you!"

"Fine!" Dean stomped back to the Impala. When he reached the door he paused before climbing in. "If you get axe murdered or eaten by a werewolf don't come crying to me!"

Jo raised her hand above her head, and gave him the bird. Dean growled. Slamming the door shut on the Impala he glowered at her sashaying hips through the rear view mirror.

"Stubborn bitch… gonna get herself killed and her mom's gonna be pissed," he murmured to himself. His hands clenched around the steering wheel. "I don't care. I've got better things to do than chasing after a pig headed, cocky…" he trailed off when he realised he could no longer hear her angry boots stomping across the gravel. He paused and turned around in his seat. She was nowhere in sight.

Fear licked at the back of his throat. He opened the car door. "Jo?" When she didn't answer, he called out again. "If you're being eaten by a Windego, I'm not gonna come save you!" he hollered into the darkness.

Silence.

"Damn it to hell!" Dean was out of the Impala in seconds, and sprinting down the road. When he rounded the bend he caught sight of blonde hair. Her stubborn shoulders were set tightly while she perched on the side of a large boulder. The sudden wave of relief washing through his veins incensed Dean further. Jo didn't acknowledge his presence. Instead, she flicked her hair over her shoulder and continued to pick at something under her fingernails. "Knew you'd come save me, hero."

Dean marched over to her, fury causing him to clench his fists. "You know, this is exactly why I didn't hook up with you before now," he accused, pointing a finger at her. "I knew you'd react like a school girl."

He regretted the words as soon as he said them.

Jo launched herself to her feet. The term 'Hell Hath No Fury' flittered across Dean's mind. Her lips curled back into a snarl, and she took a threatening step towards him. "Don't you dare, Winchester! Don't you dare try to throw that in my face." Her eyes bore holes into him and for a second Dean was terrified she could read the panicked thoughts charging around his head. "I'm not another one of your belt notch girls, so you can't use the same tricks on me. We both know why you stopped, and we both know that up until a minute ago I would have let you use me to distract yourself from fretting over Sam."

Dean rolled his eyes dismissively, his fists tightening. "Yeah. Ok, sweetheart. This is about my brother," he remarked sarcastically. He took a step back. "Whatever you have to tell yourself."

Jo took another determined step forward, encroaching on his personal space. It felt like she was everywhere and he chocked of the scent of vanilla. He took another step back, but she moved swiftly until her face was inches from his again. Dean craned his neck away, but she only seemed to curl herself around him.

"What's the matter Dean, am I making you nervous?" She challenged through gritted teeth. Her perfectly manicured eyebrow rose questioningly, and Dean suddenly felt like he was standing in front her bare assed and exposed to the world. He tried to square his shoulders and turn away from her, but failed miserably.

Her palm pressed against his abdomen.

"No," he spluttered a second too late. His heart began to beat that little bit faster, and he desperately tried to school his features into a disinterested mask. "I was just trying to let you down gently. I don't want Ellen hunting me down because I made her little girl cry."

"Really?" Jo remarked casually, but he noticed her jaw hardening. "You sure about that?"

Dean shrugged, trying to concentrate on anything other than how it felt like her hand was searing his abdomen. "Sometime the truth hurts, Joanna." He paused, flinching in preparation for a fist to imbedded itself in his nose, and was slightly embarrassed when all she did was smile at him.

"You think I'm gonna hit you, Dean?" She teased, and something in her tone made Dean's thighs clench. Suddenly she wasn't the young girl he'd seen swooning over REO Speedwagon in her mother's bar. Suddenly Joanna Harvelle was someone Dean didn't know at all.

He swallowed nervously.

"Kinda… yeah," he admitted.

She nodded and took a step away from him, her nails grazing the front of his jeans as her hand fell away. "You can drive me home now," she announced imperiously.

"Can I? Gee, thanks your majesty," Dean muttered sourly.

"Well if you're gonna be a whiny bitch about it, I'll drive myself then." Jo tossed her hair over her shoulder and shoved past him towards the car.

"Oh yeah? You and what army?"

"Who needs an army when I have breasts?" Jo asked, and turned around. While walking backwards she fished the impala keys out from inside her bra and jiggled the keys at him. "Didn't think I'd have a backup plan if you decided to drive off without me, did you?"

She grinned wickedly and turned and bolted to the car.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean shouted, and dashed after her. She was quick. He had to give her that. She had already looped around to the driver's side when he finally caught up with her. But instead of climbing into the car like he had anticipated, she spun him around and pressed him against the side of the Impala. He barely realised what was happening before her lips crashed into his.

"You better be possessed, because if you think you can –" Jo shoved him harder against the car and he felt the painful presence of the door handle digging into his back. He tried to shift away by winding his hands around her waist, but she took both of his wrists and pinned them to the car.

Dean was surprised by her strength.

Jo kissed him again. Hard and rough, her tongue demanded entrance into his mouth, and he barely had a chance to comply before her hips started moving. Dean gasped into her mouth as she shifted and ground against the front of his jeans until each flick against his groin threatened to make his knees buckle.

Forgetting that he was supposed to resist, he tried to claim dominance back by massaging her tongue with his own. She let go of his wrists. Somewhere, lost in the mush his brain had turned to, he remembered he was supposed to have the upper hand.

It was an intense internal struggle to withdraw his tongue from her pliant mouth and pull away. He sagged against the door, and was about to push her away when her hand somehow managed to slip between them, and down the front of his jeans. "Jo," he hissed, head falling back as she cupped his balls. "Stop-"

Her tongue lapped at the side of his neck. "Did you honestly think that I would let you leave without so much as a wham, bam, thank you ma'am?" She hissed into his ear, and he shuddered as her teeth grazed his earlobe. Dean felt himself harden in her small hands. "There's not a chance in hell I'm returning to my mothers side with a pair of dry panties." Her hand wrapped around him and squeezed ever so gently. His head fell forward, crashing into her neck. Her skin tasted like vanilla. "You may like to start things, Winchester – but a Harvelle gets the job done." Her mouth returned to his.

Jo removed her hand from the front of his pants, and ventured up his stomach, her short nails raking across his already sensitive skin. He felt cool air skim across his chest, and was about to look down when her lips disappeared from his mouth.

He pouted, until his mouth fell open when her teeth clamped down on his nipple. "Jesus, Jo-" he ground out. Her face descended down his stomach, teeth nipping, tongue dragging lazily at the fresh bite marks. His pants hit the ground before he realised she had undone his belt buckle.

He shifted, vulnerable to the cool night air and her eager mouth. He cast a quick glance around the empty scenic picnic area. He hoped to God no cops patrolled the area. The very thought of being caught, only served to aid Jo in her bid to get him off. "Jo-" he moaned, bending his knees in an attempt to reach out to her.

A firm hand to his stomach stopped him in his tracks, and he shivered as her long hair tickled his inner thighs. The cool steel of the car door against his bare ass helped to keep his thoughts focused until her tongue lashed out against him.

He was so close to coming in her hands that he was disgusted with himself. He grunted out a warning to her when she suddenly stopped. She stood up and he peered at her though half closed lids in confusion.

She was teasing him.

Furious, Dean reached out to snatch her wrist - but the jeans pooled around his ankles restricted him from doing so. Angrily, he lifted one leg and kicked the jeans off. She chuckled, and he looked up and saw her toss her shirt over her head. He lunged towards her and she threw her bra at his face.

Dean yanked the material off his face, and grabbed her by the waist. She squealed, and her legs were around his waist by the time his teeth captured her bottom lip. While he walked them back to the car, this time pushing her against the door handle, her mouth broke away from his teeth. "I swear, if you chicken out again I'll-"

"The only thing I'm not letting you finish is that sentence," he growled, and shoved his hand inside her jeans and curled his fingers up inside of her. Jo moaned loudly, her head hitting the Impala's roof as she thrust against his fingers. Dean used his teeth to drag her bra away from her breast and suckled the same nipple he had abandoned earlier.

Jo began to wiggle urgently against him, and he struggled not to drop her. She bucked against him again, and he finally realised she was trying to get him to put her down. He removed his arm from under her thigh, and she slid down messily, yanking her jeans off. He realised with a grin she was wearing a matching white thong, and instead of letting her pull it off he batted her hands away and pushed the tiny material to the side.

In one swift movement he yanked one thigh around his hip and shoved himself inside of her. Her excited gasp turned into a deep guttered moan that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. The Impala window threatened to break under the constant rough thrusts, but Dean couldn't find it in him to care. Neither could Jo as she growled his name and encouraged him to use more force.

He grabbed her other thigh and flung in around him and rocked into her deeper. He felt the muscles in the backs of his thighs and calves tighten and he had to distribute his weight against the car. "Jo," he groaned into her hair as her nails dug into shoulders blades. "I'm-"

"That's it," she gasped out, and started to flick her pelvis up to meet him thrust for thrust. "Don't stop-"

Headlights flashed across the picnic area like lightening and Dean swore. "Son of a bitch!" He cried out panicked, looking over the hood of the car at the blue pick up truck lumbering along the road.

"I'm gonna freakin' shoot who ever gets out of that car," Jo promised, panting. She squirmed, trying to see over the roof of the car, her muscles unintentionally clamping around Dean. Dean groaned and fell into her. "Dean!" Jo hissed furiously as his eyes rolled back. "No! Don't you dare!"

"I-ugh-aah." Dean moaned out, spilling inside of her. Jo slapped his shoulder, her face furious. The pick up truck, which contained two teenagers, suddenly did a large U-turn and sped back down the road they came from. Dean collapsed against Jo spent.

"Un-freaking-believable," Jo snapped, and shoved at Dean's chest. With shaky arms, Dean slipped out from inside her and lowered her to the ground. He blinked, trying to chase away the stars dancing in his vision, and pressed a tender kiss to her neck.

"Babe, I'm sorry."

"Don't you 'babe' me, Dean Winchester," Jo snapped crossly. "You owe me!"

He nodded and brought a sweat soaked hand to her face. She refused to look at him, her bottom lip pouting. He kissed her sweetly by the side of her lips, and she turned her face away. "I'm really, really sorry," he said gently, and pulled her face towards him. She frowned, but he gently pressed his lips to her mouth and kissed her gently and slowly.

"What was that?" she asked, when he slowly pulled away and began running his hand through her hair affectionately.

"I'm making it up to you." He pulled away from her after another slow kiss, and went to retrieve their clothes. When he returned to her side, her arms where crossed against her chest, her thong back in place.

"You better make it up to me," she warned, grabbing her clothes. "Or I'll fricking salt and burn you alive."

Dean grinned, and kissed her passionately again. His fingers trailed up and down her arms until goose pimples broke out over her skin. When he broke away from her, Jo's face had lost all edges of anger. "Nah, you wont do that," he told her smugly. "Because then you'd have to buy a vibrator."

Jo rolled her eyes and huffed. "Who says I don't already have one?"

Yanking his jeans up, he gently rearranged his tender boys. His inner thighs were still tingling. "And where in the world do you keep it? Your weapons bag?" He smirked, "That'd be a nice surprise for your mom."

"Who do you think bought it for me?"

Dean screwed his face up. "Ew."

"Enough chit-chat, more making it up to me." Jo scolded, and yanked him roughly by the collar. He grinned in between kisses until he was sure she was starting to forgive him.

"So where do you want to go?" he pressed, when they broke apart for air.

"Anywhere," Jo grunted.

Dean smiled. "I know just the place."

* * *

Thoughts? Opinions? Any flames - keep it small. Writing smut is really _hard_ (pun totally intended).


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